


Lessons

by Lightspeed



Series: Monstrous Intent [11]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Bigfoot - Freeform, Faun!Scout, Fauns & Satyrs, M/M, Magic, Monsters, Respawn, Sex Talk, girl scout cookies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:58:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1472413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medic’s interest in the arcane arts leads himself and Sniper to Merasmus’ doorstep.  While he’s there, Sniper decides to get himself into some trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons

"For the last time, I've bought approximately two hundred fifty-seven boxes of samoas and thin mints apiece from you wicked temptresses, now leave an old man alone and give his sweet tooth a rest!" Meramus hollered, slamming open the door to his castle in a huff.

"G'day," Sniper replied, standing on the stoop with a smirk. Beside him, Medic's eyes were wide in surprise, and he was slowly beginning to edge his way behind the bushman, to put a body between himself an the line of fire.

"Oh." Merasmus deflated, squinting at Sniper with a frown. "You'll have to excuse me. Apparently the new business strategy for all of the nearby Girl Scout troops is to come to my door with a wagon full of cookies and just wait for me to throw money at them," the wizard explained, smoothing out his robes and straightening his skull hat. "It is a dangerously effective sales method."

Sniper chuckled at that. "I'll have to remember your sweet tooth next time I get on your bad side, then."

"I'll let you know if you ever make it to my good side, first, Mundy." Merasmus smirked, ushered the two men inside. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this little visit? And I see you've brought a guest, and a coworker of yours, no less! Interesting. So is that that _mate_ of yours you were talking about?" the wizard teased, casting Sniper a knowing glance.

Medic smiled and began to speak, "Well, I am--"

"'e is not my _mate_!" Sniper interrupted with a snarl. "The Doc's not the bloke I was telling you about, either."

With a humming chuckle, Merasmus turned to lead them to his study, "Whatever you say, Mundy. Guten Tag, Herr Doktor."  
"Ah, guten Tag," Medic replied, apprehensively. He turned to Sniper and looked about, clearly feeling like he was missing something in this conversation. "I thought you referred to your friends as mates? I thought we were friends."

Sniper shook his head, trying to abate the hurt look Medic was assaulting him with, all too aware that puppy eyes were always followed by involuntary surgery. "Not the sort of mate 'e's gettin' at, Doc. Not unless I'm some sort of 'omewrecker 'tween you and Heavy."

"Was?"

"'e wasn't asking if you're my friend. Of course you're me mate. 'e was askin' if you're my _mate_. I may have, er, mentioned the arrangement Demo and I 'ave, and 'e's been 'avin a field day with it."

"Oh. Oh!" Medic's eyes lit up and a smile crossed his lips. "Does Merasmus know something about the two of you that I do not? Do not tell me there is more to it than meets the eye, Sniper?"

"Er, well, yes and yes, but not at all what you think, Doc," Sniper replied, widening his stride to pull ahead and catch up with Merasmus, who was chuckling quietly to himself. Any further questioning looks from the doctor were pointedly ignored.

When the three entered Merasmus' study, Sniper found his way to his usual seat and sat down, kicking his boots up onto the small coffee table in front of it. This was probably going to take a while.

Medic's eyes couldn't figure out where to focus first. Green flames burned in braziers along the walls and in a massive chandelier overhead, and every wall was lined with bookcases, shelves, cabinets, curios, and ornate, framed pieces of arcane writing. The space, what should have been a mere broom closet from the way the castle was laid out, stretched off into the distance, with hallways lined with books leading off either side of the massive room toward more and more eldritch trinkets and treasures. Desks and tables displayed oversized, ornate tomes and mystical tools and artifacts. In the nearest corner, a set of overlarge leather chairs, one containing Sniper, sat around a coffee table, a small kitchenette built into the wall beside it.

Wonder overcame the doctor, leading him this way and that, eyes sliding over everything in an attempt to absorb it all excitedly, squinting at book spines to read their titles and marveling at the variety of languages in which they were written. Of particular interest were the more visceral artifacts to be found, components, reagents, and foci composed of dead or preserved flesh or bone, and the several cases containing jars of preserved organs that the doctor found. It was overwhelming and fantastical, and Medic found himself wishing for it all.

When Medic had come to him asking about learning magic, Sniper had been skeptical. He knew that Medic was experimenting with new healing formulas, and some equipment that was years away from finished, which he claimed could function as a mobile small-scale combination of medigun and respawn technologies. Those sorts of pursuits were best left to science, not the arcane. Certainly not in the hands of an unpredictable, larcenous, somewhat sadistic mercenary doctor.

"Your collection is amazing, Merasmus," Medic called to the wizard as he set a kettle down onto a small, portable burner. The hot plate sitting in the kitchenette looked almost comical amongst the collection of eldritch gewgaws contained on a shelf near which it sat.

"Thank you," Merasmus replied with a smile. "I'm not used to compliments. Most people who enter my study do so with simply commerce in mind and don't have the courtesy to appreciate what they're witnessing. Isn't that right, Mundy?"

"What? Sorry, couldn't hear you, mate. Too busy thinkin' about what I'll 'ave me for dinner tonight, you know."

Merasmus rolled his eyes at the assassin's shit-eating grin. "What brings the two of you to my domicile, other than Mundy's determined labours as my self-appointed gadfly?"  
  
"I had asked Sniper if he knew of someone I could speak to about beginning to learn the art of magic. I was surprised to find he suggested you, considering your rocky relationship with our Soldier, but when he told me of your interactions, I had to come and speak to you meinself," Medic explained, his eyes darting about as he spoke, taking in everything with the glee of a child in a candy shop. "I wish to procure an education in magic from you."

"I am not taking on any apprentices," Merasmus sighed, leading Medic to a corner of one wall-spanning shelf of books. "I seem to have poor luck with such things. Apprentices, familiars, summer employees hired to clean your home and not touch your forbidden arcane tomes, the such. However, you are an intelligent man, Doktor. Regardless of your actual credentials. Perhaps this," the wizard withdrew a thick, well-thumbed and dogeared tome from the bottom shelf and handed it to Medic, "would be something you would be interested in."

Medic ran his thumbs over the cover. The leather of the book was rigid, and a light, yellowed brown. He could tell it had once been soft to the touch and pliant, but ages uncounted had rendered it largely uncared-for in spite of its obvious overuse. Metal bindings clasped each corner and adorned the front cover in a pretty, if largely meaningless leaf motif. They looked to be made of steel, judging by the small flecks of rust that dotted it. Running his thumb down its spine, he inspected the areas where the leather cracked and crumbled, and looked up to Merasmus with a grin. "This is bound in human skin, isn't it?"

"Very good," Merasmus laughed, leading him away over to where Sniper already sat, motioning to an empty chair for Medic. "Yes, it is. Anthropodermic bibliopegy is a tradition for volumes dedicated to beginning magics. It scares away the weak-willed. This is the Codex Principium, a treatise on magic designed to teach the layman how to begin on the path of encorclement. It will introduce you to the theories and formulae required to understand how magic works, and how to manipulate patterns, components, foci, speech, and somatics to bend it to your whims. Basic spells of universal concentration are included, as well as beginning lessons on the theories of different schools. In particular, its strengths lie in transmutation and abjuration theory, but its content regarding conjuring leaves much to be desired, in my mind. It is much too vague on such an exacting school of magic, and doesn't provide enough information overall in the pursuit of brevity. A shame. But this tome is perhaps the perfect way to begin learning the arcane arts. Its presentation also makes it an adequate tool for self-education."

"I see," Medic hummed, taking the seat and idly flipping slowly through its pages, taking in the sheer amount of notes in the margins and diagrams present. It was a beautifully complex book, and he looked very forward to unraveling its secrets. "Then I will take it, at whatever price."

"That is what I like to hear," Merasmus chuckled, attending to the kettle as it whistled and pouring three mugs of tea. Each ceramic cup was adorned with a painted image of a large-eyed kitten playing with a ball of yarn. "So, is that all? Or do you have need of me as well, Mundy?"

Sniper pursed his lips a moment in thought, then sat forward, steeping his fingers as he leaned his elbows on his thighs. "Yeh, actually. I know you specialize in Europe and Asia when it comes to cryptoanthropology, but what do you know about North American mythics?"

 

*

 

"Look, all I'm sayin' is you used to be totally cool with fuckin' me, an' now it's like pullin' teeth just to get you to let me blow you!" Scout grumbled, looking down to Engineer, who walked beside him. The faun's hooves clicked on the concrete of the BLU base's hallway, making their wanderings even noisier than just the efforts of his mouth. "I don't get it! What is your deal?"

Engineer sighed. Didn't the faun have someone else to go harass or manhandle? Why him? "Scout," his voice was flat and tired. He really needed to get back to work. "Look at you, son. You've got antlers. You've got hooves. You're covered in fur from the hips down and you've got a tail. You ain't human, son."

"Your point bein'? I'm still me, Hardhat! Hell, I'm better, at least in the sack!"

"It's all just a little...weird, for me, is all. You're blowin' me and I go to put my hand on your head and hit antlers instead. Like a deer. If I wanna return the favour, my hands're restin' on furry legs, like a deer. Lord, don't get me started on the view from behind. Fur, tail, human ass and shapes. It's just, it's hard for a fella to want to put it to a guy who looks a lot like somethin' he's shot and mounted on his wall back home."

"That's why? 'Cause it's weird that I ain't all human anymore? An' yet you're okay lettin' me suck your dick sometimes? 'Cause you sure don't seem to complain when you're grabbin' my antlers an' fuckin' my mouth."

Engineer jawed at the air a moment, a blush spreading over his cheeks. "It's—I ain't gotta explain myself to you, Scout," he countered with a dangerous edge to his tone, trying to regroup. "I'm willin' to help you when you need it, because you're my friend. But that's it. There're plenty of other fellas on the team you can go to for sex."

"So you're a hypocrite? Is that it?"

"Scout..."

"Man, I don't get you. Is it 'cause 'a Pyro? Like is 'e not cool with it anymore? 'Cause if it's things with you two, man, I get that, it's cool, no harm."

"It ain't got nothin' to do with me and Pyro you damn--"

A scream ripped down the hall, guttural and pierced through with abject horror. Engineer and Scout exchanged a look, the faun the first to respond.

"That came from respawn."

Both men took off at a run.

Scout was first to arrive, punching in the code that opened the sealed room's door. It was just four ones, but the time it took to unlock and open the door allowed Engineer to catch up and stumble in ahead of him, the faun hot on his heels.

As they entered, they came to a dead stop. Laying on the tiled floor of the room was Sniper, naked and panting, sweat sheened along his shoulders and face, his face absolutely harrowed and pale. He was curled up in the fetal position, his eyes unblinking and unfocused. He shivered and whimpered.

"Holy shit, Snipes?"

"Stretch? You okay?"

The shake of Sniper's head in response was short and barely perceptible. He grimaced slowly.

"Help me get 'im, Scout. Sniper? What's goin' on? Tell me what happened?" Engineer beckoned, approaching the bushman slowly and taking gentle hold of him, wrapping an arm around his torso to try to help him up.

"Demo's not gonna be happy about this," Scout muttered, rounding to the opposite side to help lift the bushman, whose skin was cold and clammy to the touch, his whole body trembling.

"I learned," Sniper croaked, his voice quavering, letting himself be lifted.

"You learned? Learned what, Stretch?"

"No matter what any of those dirty hippies say," Sniper murmured, making eye contact with Engineer. "Bigfoot? Is not. A gentle. Giant."


End file.
